Things work out just as they should. To paraphrase verses from King James on this Sunday evening before the Lenten Season, the Lord works in mysterious ways. It’s actually a good thing that my up-close vision is blurry. I don’t really want to see the stray random hairs apparently growing on my upper lip. I don’t see them at all unless I’m in Arkansas in my mother’s bedroom where for some unknown reason she has a magnifying telescope mirror making even brainwaves visible. I avoid that mirror. It’s a crazy fun house mirror exposing future flaws and skin damage not yet visible to the normal naked eye. She loves that mirror.
Na glanced at my eyebrows which were totally hidden by my bangs anyway, and continued, “What about you mustache? You want wax?” “No! I don’t have a mustache!” Do I? This was all a ploy to make whatever baby-fine, invisible blonde hairs I might have grow thicker and darker forcing me into a mustache waxing routine. I knew that trick. Or maybe I just couldn’t see it – maybe I did have a mustache? I would not start waxing my lip no matter what crop starts growing there. Not unless Kelsey tells me I need to, of course.